


Glitter like Moonlight

by ConfessionForAnotherTime



Series: RvB Smut Weeks [5]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Brain Damage, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Knifeplay, M/M, Memory Issues, Past Felix | Isaac Gates/Locus | Samuel Ortez, Past The Meta | Agent Maine/Agent Washington, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionForAnotherTime/pseuds/ConfessionForAnotherTime
Summary: “Agent Washington will need some time to recover,” Doctor Grey rattled off. “I really don’t think he will be ready for quite some time now. Between his brain getting all squishy and the blood loss, I likely won’t discharge him for quite a while.”“Right.”Written for RvB Smut Week and Bad Things Happen Bingo.





	Glitter like Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zopponde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zopponde/gifts).



\---

Locus expected the loneliness to set in again once he left the reds and blues to their own devices. Washington had made it out alive somehow, and even in the care of Doctor Grey, he would have some residual side effects to the trauma he had experienced. She had rattled off words like  _ brain damage _ and  _ oxygen deprivation.  _ Locus had been distracted with seeing Washington for the second time since Wash’s personnel file passed into his HUD from Hargrove’s terminal. The freckled face in the file now gave way to scars on the fields of Chorus while the Reds and Blues took down Hargrove himself. One across the bridge of his nose. Another splitting his lip with silver scar tissue. Part of his ear missing like a junkyard cat that scavenged for scraps outside in the alleys. Enough time and circumstance had passed for Wash to visibly age even between the time he had last seen Doctor Grey working on him. 

Locus stared at the ceiling as those memories flooded back, filling up the months by himself since he last set foot on Chorus after helping the reds and blues on Iris. Leaving Washington on the doorstep, essentially, after promising Grey he had left behind the life he led on Chorus. He had made a promise to be better, so he hoped she could trust him. It also helped that he had delivered Washington to her yet again nearing death, leaving an escape route in place. Her hands would be too full to bother with him. 

Locus had taken refuge on Chorus, having discarded his old armor. The color scheme left little to the imagination as to who was underneath, but President Kimball had her hands full. Many of those left on Chorus had moved on to rebuild. If he kept his head low, he didn’t have to worry as much about being recognized. Now he just had to worry about those from off world who had been paying him for his services from time to time. Taking the killing out of the job certainly lessened the options available to him. Felix never learned about this part of his profession though. Being tight lipped had its advantages. Especially when one of them was opening those exact lips.  _ How long have I been asleep? _

The problem never lay in who crawled into bed with him in the middle of the night. Locus had grown accustomed to having spare bodies join him in bed. Locus hadn’t felt a knife pressed to his neck since Felix had died. 

“A lesser man would have slit your throat.” The hushed whisper sent a shiver down his spine.

Washington. A quiver shot up his spine, making his hair stand on end. A gruffness had taken over, catching Wash’s voice deep in his throat. Locus propped his arm up underneath himself in an attempt to see Wash better. He was met with cold metal against his throat and he swallowed, the blade scraping against the tender skin of his neck. A scar from Felix glinted in the moonlight streaming in from the small rectangular window at the top of the wall, and Locus leaned back off his arm. The knife hovered over the scar and Wash wet his lips.  _ Wash isn’t himself. _

“Back down. You don’t need to get up.” The pressure from the blade lessened. Locus ground his teeth, unsure of where Washington was headed with this. “You know I keep the knife with me, big guy. Don’t make me use it except when you ask for it.”

Locus raised an eyebrow. Washington had never joined him in bed like this. The shuffle of the sheets mixed with the weight on the bed shifting from being next to him to on top of him; Locus’ bewilderment grew. 

“Wha---” The knife was back on his throat, biting into his skin this time. Pain slithered through his consciousness, absently aware of the warmth starting to cut a trail down his neck. Not enough to need medical attention… yet. Locus’ heart pounded in his chest, threatening to leap out his throat. Wash didn’t have the same… precision. The cut was just enough to bleed, to stain the sheets below him, to barely register how painfully hard he had become with his cock trapped underneath Washington’s ass. He shifted above Locus, the knife coming off his neck and Locus flashed back to Felix as the blade blackened from the angle it was held at. Washington’s tongue had covered one side of the blade, cleaning it. He flipped it over, licking what remained and leaving the blade wet with saliva instead of blood. Locus’ vision split for a moment, similar to his HUD glitching when his helmet took a blow.

“I don’t know why you try to talk. The growls are enough. You know I can understand you.” The almost tender touch of Washington’s right hand, knife still gripped in his left throws Locus off.  _ Growls? No. What was he talking about? Am I that tired? _

Washington’s body pressed up against his, a tongue traveling over the cut. The roughness of Washington’s tongue stung the cut and he closed his eyes. Protesting would just lead to Washington silencing him again. Instead, Locus shifted under him, wriggling his hips and groaning softly as his erection strained against his sleep pants and rubbed roughly against the highly pilled fabric, trapped between his own body and Washington’s. 

“Someone’s interested tonight,” Wash rasped into his ear, nails scratching down the side of his neck and through his hair. Washington’s face went blank for a moment, like shaking off a memory, before coming back to the reality in front of him. He felt for something on the back of Locus’ head, shaking his head. “Using hair to hide it from me?” Washington asked, lips ghosting over the small hairs on the side of Locus’ neck. 

“I’m not---”  _ Hiding is what I used to do. I’m in the open. _ Locus managed before Wash snapped his hand over Locus’ mouth, effectively silencing him as Locus’ eyes widened.  _ This isn’t like him at all. It's happening again. _

“Maine, we both know that words were never your strong point. Let’s not ruin the evening by talking when it isn’t  _ needed. _ ” Locus pursed his lips together under Washington’s hand, rocking his cock up against the ass that rocked down against his hips.  _ Fuck.  _

“Felix…” Locus gasped out, clamping his mouth shut. He may not have been one to curse out loud, but the lack of action since the fall of Chorus was starting to get to him. Felix was starting to get to him. Felix always got to him.

He would have killed to have Washington on top of him, grinding against his cock, barely clothed. Now he was just doing his best to not rattle him out of the hallucination of his former partner that had been dead for longer than he knew. 

Locus’ breath caught in his throat, feeling the warmth of the blood trailing down his ribs before the pain of the knife slicing into his ribs. His breath startled, swallowing hard.  _ The trust wasn’t there. Not like it had been with Fe... _ It hadn’t cut more than half an inch deep, but that didn’t stop the pain from sparking at the corners of his vision. He groaned in response, taking Wash’s left hand in an attempt to get the knife away from him. 

“ _ Maine _ , the pain makes us feel alive. My head is about to split open and let all of the pieces out. How do you deal with all the voices? Epsilon left such a mark.” Wash dug his fingers into the cut at Locus’ side, slicking them thoroughly. He brought them to his lips, then reached behind himself where Locus couldn’t see. Wash slid off his lap for a moment, reaching up to grab the knife from above Locus’ head on the bed before yanking Locus’ sweats halfway down his thighs and returning to his spot atop his lap. Locus caught a glimpse of a dark smudge on Washington’s ass as he swung his leg back over, but the heat from being skin to skin with the man he had once admired overrode all rational thought. 

“Better.” Locus felt Washington’s hand on his shaft, stroking him lazily. Wash had lined his own erection up with Locus’ to stroke them both at the same time and Locus bit back a louder moan at just being touched like this. “I know you want more than this don’t you, big guy?”

Locus breathed out a yes, so soft and barely there that Washington didn’t register the word, but interpreted the buck of Locus’ hips to mean he should keep going with his attentions. Locus shuddered under Wash’s touch as his thumb swiped along the head of his cock to play with the sticky pre-cum collecting at the slit. 

“Seems like you’re ready,” Washington purred, lifting his hips and shimmying Locus’ cock under him to rest along the cleft of his ass for the time being. Locus’ toes curled, not from pleasure but pain, hissing when Washington’s fingers dabbled back into the cut to slick them and then grab his cock. “Don’t worry about hurting me. I know to take measures before I have you fuck me.”

Locus blinked once. Twice. Lost at Washington speaking this way.  _ He’s not himself at all. Just go with it. _ The thought erased itself from his mind, instead focusing on the wet heat starting to engulf his shaft as Washington lowered himself down onto his cock. Locus grit his teeth since the pleasure didn’t last long, attempting to focus more on the feeling of Washington around him. Lifting his hips to take him again instead of the blade cutting into the flesh part of his pectoral muscle. Teeth ground against teeth. Locus got half a thought formed in his brain until Wash came down hard, squeezing around him and making him cry out. Strong fingers dug into the wound curving along his ribs, mixing pain with pleasure. Locus bit back a cry, holding Wash’s hips to almost bruising in an attempt to get him to move faster, ride him harder, anything.  _ The sooner it ended, the sooner I can get patched up. _ Locus swallowed, scraping his Adam’s apple against the blade again at his throat. He bucked his hips, approaching frenzy.  _ Get him off to get him off _ . A very Felix like thought wiggled into his brain, lips curling into a smile long enough to catch Wash’s attention. 

Washington pulled the knife away, discarding it to the side. With Wash’s attention pulled away for the barest of seconds, Locus took his chance, twisting under Wash to knock him off balance. Blinks of surprise and a thud against the ground, Locus found himself on top of Wash, between his legs, hands on either side of his head. 

“Finally want some  _ control? _ ” Light filtered in through the small, musty window, casting shadows on Locus’ face. Recognition rippled across Washington’s face for an instant, leaving as soon as it came. Locus dig his nails into the backs of Wash’s thighs, ignoring the gasp from under him as he lined back up to sink into his attacker again. It was easier this time, without Washington prodding at his wounds. Instead, Wash moaned under him, legs hooked over Locus’ elbows. It helped to not think about it. Locus’ mind went blank after the first cry for a name that wasn’t his own, not Maine either.  _ Viktor. _ He hadn’t seen that name since he read through the personnel files Hargrove collected. The nails dragging down his biceps registered. That cocky grin, etched into his memory, urging him to keep going, drowned out the cries below him. His body moved without him thinking now, stilling when he felt Washington shudder around him and grasp at his hips, creating a barrier of sorts to slow him down. Locus pulled away from Wash, slipping out of him. He picked up a towel from the floor to clean himself off, looking everywhere but at the floor where he and Washington has just lay.  _ Fuck _ . Locus picked up the knife, taking it with him. The door was only a few paces away. Another breath and this could be behind him too. Wash blinked at him with recognition returning to his face. 

“What happened?” He spat his tongue out like something was on it. “Why does my mouth taste like blood?” Locus muttered something as he turned back. Washington cocked his head. “What was that?"

“I’m not Maine,” Locus managed finally. “Maine’s been dead for a long time, Agent Washington.” Locus tossed the discarded sweatshirt from the floor across the room to Wash. He pulled on his tank top to leave. “I’ll go let Doctor Grey know you had another lapse like the last one.” 

\---

“Agent Washington will need some time to recover,” Doctor Grey rattled off. “I really don’t think he will be ready for quite some time now. Between his brain getting all squishy and the blood loss, I likely won’t discharge him for quite a while.”

“Right.”

**Author's Note:**

> Season 8 Wash is best Wash.


End file.
